


You broke her, I'll break you

by Erulinaz



Category: The Rook (TV 2019)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Blood, Dark, Death, Other, Violence, gestalt pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 14:56:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20490731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erulinaz/pseuds/Erulinaz
Summary: Gestalt is angry and need to destroy Bristol for what he did to Myfanwy.





	You broke her, I'll break you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
This one shot is very different from my other works, the writing as much as the topic are new for me. This one is really dark and violent. No fluff in there. But I really enjoyed writing this, very cathartic. Hope you like it, anyway.

Anger.

Rancour.

Hatred.

That was all Gestalt could feel into their veins. They couldn’t breath, the couldn’t eat, they couldn’t sleep. All they could do was staring at Myfanwy. She was pale, laying on her hospital bed, like a dead corpse. She was so weak, so fragile, so close to death at this instant. She wasn’t moving. She was barely there. Her mind was in pain. And even if she wasn’t acknowledging their presence beside her, they never left her side.

No.

And they promised themselves to never ever leave her side again. They left for a few days before all of this happen. They shouldn’t have left her. They promised her to come back for her, but they made a mistake. They didn’t see it coming. They had always hated Bristol, however they couldn’t imagine this.

No.

Because of_ him_, she was so close to die. And they needed her to be alive. They needed her in their lives. And now, she needed them. Everybody was hating her, saying she had killed people. Gestalt knew it wasn’t true. Like always, the victim of rape was made responsible. It was only Bristol’s fault. Not hers. They were going to take care of her, to make her feel better, about all of it. But they knew, when she was looking at the ceiling, instead of them, that she will never forgive herself for what happened.

No.

Never.

And it was killing them. Because they knew it wasn’t her fault. The guilt was eating her alive. She was hating herself, she was scared of her power, she was scared of her emotions. She was trying to stop feeling anything. Even the love she had for Gestalt. But they weren’t mad at her, it wasn’t her fault.

No.

It was Bristol’s fault.

The creep.

The pervert.

The rapist.

He was supposed to protect her, to help her, to be there for her. But he destroyed her. He took everything away from her. He broke her down, like if she was a doll. He toyed with her and then he get feed up with her. And like an angry and capricious child, he threw the toy on the ground, breaking it. It didn’t matter, he could always find another one. But Myfanwy would never forget.

No.

Bristol didn’t care about the consequences. Of course he didn’t think things could go that wrong. Actually, he was probably more sorry for his former job at Glengrove than for Myfanwy. He didn’t care about the children in there. All EVAs. And he never considered EVAs as human beings.

No.

Never.

EVAs are just potential weapons, potential governmental agents, if they were good enough. They were goods, products, things. Bristol was so aware of that. Bristol agreed with all of this. He had just accepted to work with them because of the good pay at the end of the month. That was it. So why it would have been different with Myfanwy?

They remembered the way he was speaking of them. One night, Gestalt found a way to enter into his office, they wanted to know what he was writing on his reports about them. He was asking them questions with so much disgust painted on his face. They never forgot the way he was looking at them. Nor they could forget the surname they read that night, on Bristol’s reports. They were the “circus freaks”. And it made them want to vomit.

Nausea.

Guilt.

Rage.

They should have protected her from him. They should have done something before all of this happened. They should have stayed for her, even if the Checquy wanted to try their aptitudes on real conditions. They should have broken their legs or their arms. Just to be able to stay by her side when she needed them the most. They should have… They should have kissed her.

Yes.

Why did she chose him over them?

They were offering her a weird relationship, with four bodies for one mind, that was true, but, at least, it would have been an healthy one. They were so in love with her, they would have done anything for her. They still would. When Bristol was only in measure to give her a toxic relationship. Because he was himself a toxic bird cunt.

Yes.

He was married. He was her therapist. He was a grown adult when he met her, while she was still a child. He used his authority on her, to make her jump into his arms. He manipulated her. He did everything for her to believe that he was understanding her, that he was good for her, that he was even her first love. It should had been Gestalt. Not him.

No, Myfanwy.

No.

He never deserved you. You were a bright star in the darkest night. You were the cure of a life of loneliness. You were everything Gestalt needed to be happy. But Bristol blew up the flame of her youth, of her joy, of her confidence. He destroyed her.

Rage.

The rapist.

Guilt.

She was going to feel guilty for the rest of her life. She was already hurting herself, despite Eliza’s protest. She wanted to trigger her power by making her blood drop on the bathroom floor. Gestalt was always there to nurse her, but their disapproval glance never made her stop. If Bristol was saying it could help her to control her emotions, therefore her EVA, he had to be right. Gospel truth.

No.

Only the Devil’s voice. Bristol was the real monster of the story, despite his angel-like face. She didn’t chose Gestalt, because of him, for him. She hurt herself for him. She destroyed a school for him.

What was it going to be after this?

If… If she accepted to survive. If she didn’t let herself die on this hospital bed. If she raised up like a dying star. Too much conditional.

No.

They couldn’t think like that. She was stronger than that. She was so much stronger than everyone thought, than even herself thought. She was going to be okay. She was going to raise up. She was going to leave the hospital and keep going her life as it was supposed to be. She was going to be a Checquy agent, to work for them and to work beside Gestalt. She was going to live.

Not like Bristol. He didn’t have the right to live happily after all of this. Gestalt knew that Linda was doing everything in her power to make him pay. First, he wouldn’t be able to practise his job. Well that’s lucky. One Myfanwy was enough. They also heard that his wife was divorcing with him. A good job too. Linda wanted to isolate him. But that was it.

Not enough.

Not enough.

Not enough.

So what?

He raped a girl, his patient, and that was it?

No jail for him?

Just a divorce and unemployment.

That was all the punishment he would have?

No.

There was no way Myfanwy was going to pay _his_ fault. He had friends who were protecting him. Plus, since Glengrove wasn’t officially existing, it was easy for him to pass under the radar. He had enough money to live and enough friends not to be in trouble. He wasn’t going to properly pay for his acts. And if no one was going to make him pay, Gestalt was there to take the law into their own hands.

Yes.

He was going to suffer like Myfanwy was suffering now, and for the rest of her life. Myfanwy would never forget. If Bristol wasn’t sorry about what happened, Gestalt was going to show him the right path. There was no way he was going to stay in his lovely house, while Myfanwy was laying on her hospital bed. There was no way for him to step out of this mess, unharmed. There was no way Gestalt could forgive him.

Hurting him like he hurt her.

Destroying him like he destroyed her.

Breaking him like he broke her.

Myfanwy had been taken away by Linda. For her safety, she said. Gestalt wanted to follow her, but they didn’t get the authorisation. Gestalt wanted to know, at least, where she was, but they didn’t have the right to have the informations of her exact location, despite being her only friend. Gestalt wanted to stay by her side, and now they could only stare at her empty bed at the hospital. They couldn’t stand it any longer.

No.

They were going to do something for her. They were going to do anything for her. They were going to do the right thing for her. They just wanted her to smile again. They just wanted her to be her former self again. And they just wanted him to go through hell.

Yes.

It was revenge time. All Gestalt’s bodies were dressing in black, as if they were going at their innocence’s funerals. After all, it was the first time they were going to hurt someone that way, aware of what they were doing, with the only purpose to hurt them and nothing else. Really, it was more Bristol’s funeral than anything else.

Metal hammer.

Crowbar.

Tyre iron.

It was the middle of the day, but really Gestalt couldn’t care less. Anyone could see them, but really it didn’t matter. They were on a special mission. A mission for Myfanwy. And for them. A mission send to them by karma.

In the archives of the Checquy, they found some Bristol’s addresses and phones numbers. But almost all of them had changed since the “incident” at Glengrove. Except, his former wife’s number. So they called her and asked her his new address. She was surprised by the demand, so Eliza added, with a lot of sweetness in the voice “Don’t worry for him.” They didn’t know if she believed them or not, but she told them his address.

Perfect.

After all, he cheated on her. She didn’t have to protect him from innocent students. Gestalt silently blessed her. After that, they found a car at the Checquy parking lot and drove to his place.

Yes.

He was going to pay for everything he did to Myfanwy.

Determined.

Angry.

Violent.

They knocked at his door. Actually, they pounded on the door until Bristol opened it. He did finally open the front door, but they didn’t let him the time to be surprised, they pushed him inside his house, before closing the door behind them. They were quick to close all the curtains and to surround him.

Yes.

He was their prey, now. Like a cat toying with a poor defenceless mouse. He couldn’t do anything against them, he was outnumbered. He wasn’t the predator any more. And Bristol was aware of it. He was aware of what was going to happen to him. Gestalt was having so much pleasure just at watching the fear in his eyes.

Yes.

He was scared. He was right to be. He knew he was going to suffer. In a vain and desperate attempt, Bristol tried to reach his phone, but Robert was quick to throw it on the wall. They all looked at the phone. On the ground. In shreds. The four bodies of Gestalt tilted their heads on the side, at the same time, their eyes on him.

“You see the phone.”

“This is going to be you.”

“I am going to break you.”

Bristol tried to reason them, but they didn’t listen to him. He tried to threaten them, but he wasn’t in the right position for doing so. He tried to tell them that Myfanwy wouldn’t want this.

No.

Don’t fucking say her name. Don’t fucking talk about her. Don’t fucking believe she could stop me. They were here for her, after all. Bristol’s voice was truly driving them insane. He was never shutting up. The rage was so strong. He deserved to know a worse punishment than just death. Eliza beat him with the tyre iron. He yelled in pain.

“Don’t say her name.”

“Now shut the fuck up.”

“Or I’ll make you shut up.”

But Bristol was unable to be reasonable.

No.

He kept talking, like a bird trying to escape the cat. Like the pig ready for the slaughter. Like a man who tried to save his life. But there was nothing to save any more. Alex and Robert removed his shirt before throwing him into Teddy’s arms. They tore apart his shirt and used it as a gag. That was so much better now. He couldn’t try to manipulate them now. And no one could hear him crying in pain. No one could feel pity for him. No one could save him from them. From their rage. From their revenge. From their justice.

“Now, you’ll understand what you did to her.”

“I’ll make you regret what you did.”

“And your body will be your constant reminder of your sins.”

To be honest, they didn’t really think that far. First they thought they would killed him. But, wasting their future because of him wouldn’t had been a great revenge. They couldn’t kill him, just hurt him. But they weren’t sure how they wanted to hurt him. They just knew they wanted him to suffer, that was it.

No.

Actually, they thought about all the things they could do to him, but it was only a dream, a fantasy. Such sweet fantasies dancing before their eyes while Myfanwy was laying on her hospital bed. Now that they were in front of him, him on the ground, pleading with his eyes, they weren’t sure what to do.

No.

They knew what to do. They always did. It was quite simple, indeed. They all raised their tools and hands, towering over Bristol who put his hands in front of him, in a vain and desperate attempt to block the blows.

Eliza with the tyre iron.

Robert with the crowbar.

Alex with the metal hammer.

Teddy with the knuckles-duster.

They broke his bones.

His legs.

His arms.

His crotch.

They heard the bones cracked. They saw the bones passing through the skin. They smelled his blood. They tasted the revenge in their mouth. They felt strong. They kept beating him up. They were unable to stop. They were covered in his blood, and it was such a sweet trophy for them.

Yes.

Bristol’s tears fell on the ground, mixed with his own blood. Behind his gag, he was screaming “Mercy, mercy”. But Gestalt didn’t answer, didn’t stop.

No.

No mercy for a rapist. No mercy for him. No mercy.

They broke his bones. They broke his mind through the pain. They broke him.

“You’ll never forget that day!”

“Now you know what pain means.”

“If you try anything on her, I’ll come to kill you in your sleep.”

Gestalt didn’t hear the front door opening. Six agents from the Checquy came in and caught them. They pushed Gestalt away from Bristol, who was drowning in a pool of blood. His blood. But Gestalt didn’t fight back.

No.

Bristol had had it. He was there, on the ground, bleeding, suffering, crying. He became what Gestalt wanted him to become: everything but a human being. Bristol was nothing, now, just a thing made of flesh and blood.

Yes.

Lot of blood. And tears. And Gestalt was now feeling a lot much better. They even let the Checquy agents picked them up. They didn’t care about the consequences actually. Bristol wasn’t even dead.

Calm.

Satisfied.

Peaceful.

They had killed a monster for Myfanwy. They had killed one of the monsters haunting her. Even if they couldn’t do much about her personal demons, at least, the physical one couldn’t hurt her any more. This was good. They had done what needed to be done.

Yes.

The day after this, Linda came finding them, in their cell. Myfanwy wanted to see them. She hadn’t talked the past few days. Their name was the first word she had pronounced. They were ecstatic.

Yes.

There was still hope. Their star wasn’t dead yet, she was even fighting for her own live. They didn’t know if Linda talked about what they did to Bristol to Myfanwy, – probably not –, and yet she started talking again. She had to feel it. She had to know what they did for her. She had to be grateful. And they were happy.

Yes.

They had killed the monster and now they will do anything for her to smile. Anything for her to feel safe again. Anything for her. This would need time. Obviously. But Gestalt had all their time for her. They were patient with her. And for a good reason.

They

Loved

Her.

It had been more than fifteen years by now. And yet, Gestalt perfectly remembered the day he went to Bristol’s house to destroy him. He perfectly remembered what they did to him. And they also perfectly remembered what they told to him.

They had one word.

Bristol seemed to have forget since he welcomed Myfanwy at his place. Gestalt saw them hugging, saw her rushing towards him, back in his house, saw her leaving the place, not completely dressed up. They knew she had sex with him. And despite the burning jealousy, despite the violent anger, despite the insane confusion, they made a promise to him.

They had one word.

They told him they would killed him if he got near Myfanwy ever again. She might be the one who came to him, and even if they didn’t understand why – was it a new way to torture herself? Or to torture them? – they needed to do it, at some point

They had one word.

They waited a week before acting. Now they knew why Myfanwy came to him. But it didn't change their mind. They just waited. They wanted their prey to feel safe, to think that they had forgotten about all of this, to believe nothing could happen now. Bristol was so wrong. No one was their to protect him. No one would know what happened to him. No one would remember his name.

They had one word.

They waited for the night to come and entered into his house, without him to know. When he opened his eyes, he saw four figures, four shadows towering him, in the dark of his bedroom. He didn’t even try to reach his phone on the bedside table. He already knew what was going to happen.

They had one word.

“We know she was here”

“I have one word.”

“This time I’ll kill you.”

Bristol’s body got consumed by Gestalt’s anger before getting consumed by the fire set in his house.

Such a terrible accident, a pity, a tragedy.

The monster was really dead now.

And Gestalt had one word.


End file.
